Pebble
by Etheril
Summary: The smallest stone can leave the widest ripples. On the evening of his parents death, Harry Potter finds help in a person who is just as out of place as him. A/U retelling of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.
1. Chapter 1

_Harry Potter, it's characters and universe, belong to it's author, J.K. Rowlings. I claim no legal right to Harry Potter or any of it's trademarks. This story is made purely for entertainment and I make no profits off it._

**Chapter One**

_The Woman Who Sold The Future_

"Out of all of the deals," he mused as he watched her blood drip onto the parchment. The paper glowed for the briefest of moments before he pulled it from under her fingers. There was a hint of old world class as he handed her his handkerchief. Lucifer eyed the woman in front of him; she wasn't that hard to figure out, and normally he wouldn't have entertained a deal such as this but it worked out to his benefit more than hers. All of his deals did eventually, but this one was special in the fact that Kaya knew that she was getting the short end of the stick and she was content with that. "I had not thought you were this stupid."

The tall woman gave a shrug, and wrapped her wrist tightly with the handkerchief, "A soldier knows when to give up their life for—"

"Now, now, Kaya, we know that isn't true," Lucifer said; a set of glasses were perched lightly on the bridge of his nose and the former Angel and he read over the contract. It was air-tight as all of his contracts were. People dug their own graves better than he ever could. "You fell in love."

Kaya snorted, "I am in love."

"Foolish."

"You Fell for it," Kaya said, and didn't flinch when Lucifer's dark eyes were leveled against her soul. "I won't let them die. Not when it can be stopped."

"And if the future isn't fluid like you believe, and you've done this all for nothing?"  
Kaya blinked, and shook her head. It was painfully obvious she hadn't thought of that. Lucifer smirked and clapped. Kaya flinched at the sound and closed her eyes before she schooled her expression into something carved from stone. She exhaled slowly and opened her eyes, "I'm at peace with my decision."

"Even the murder of a child?" Lucifer coaxed. He always wondered how far the Witch could be pushed before she went shattered. There were the hints, the subtle gestures that told him that she wasn't exactly all together there in her mind. The way her shoulders tensed, and her eyes steeled told him more than a single piece of paper ever could.

"She didn't die," Kaya said it slowly, "Her soul is alive."

"Trapped in a bottle," he grinned when the first crack appeared in the former soldier's armor. She tensed and started to move forward, before she pulled back.

"Enough," she said, her tone firm, "I need to leave before they find out."

Lucifer leaned back in his chair and nodded, gesturing towards the door, "Any time you wish to leave, the door is open."

Kaya looked over her shoulder towards the door and shook her head, "There isn't an opening. I don't feel the magick."

"It's something from your new home," Lucifer drawled, "Take the soul and leave before I change my mind about your contract. You bore me now. I know how you tick."

Kaya frowned and grabbed the bottle off Lucifer's desk and marched off towards the door. She spoke resolutely, "You don't know what makes me tick." Her fingers sparked when she touched the handle of the door and her eyes widened as her stomach was pulled out through her spine and her head spun off into one thousand directions.

She felt like she was drowning.

She felt fire lick at her skin.

She felt the dirt cling to her lungs.

Kaya's throat was too tight to scream as she dropped onto the ground. Her head rested against the moist ground and gagged on her own spit. It took a while for the shaking to stop, and the world to stop spinning whenever she thought about lifting her head up but eventually. Kaya rolled slowly onto her knees and sat still, watching the world around her. She didn't know what the joke was but this world looked too much like her own and Lucifer wasn't kind enough to do that. She was more surprised that he hadn't sent her to a dimension where everything was flat and there was no air.

She stood up and wove for a moment.

"Damn," she said and winced at her voice. Her throat felt like she had been dragged over jagged rocks, and her voice was more like crackling leaves than something human. She hoped that was only temporary. The last thing she needed was to sound like an old hag forever. She had never had a pretty voice, but it had sounded womanly enough to set off her appearance. With the butt of her palm, she rubbed her throat as she finally started to walk.

The air smelled of fire and cooked flesh.

People, she thought.

If Kaya were one to fall back on her training, she would have thought out her course. She had no idea if the people, if they were even people, were non-hostile and walking into an unknown situation was always asking for trouble. But she had never been good about her own safety; she was better at keeping other people alive. And she didn't have anyone to protect… "Well almost no one."

Her gaze dropped to the bottle in her left hand. The bottle was a crudely wrought thing with no glamour and rather than a cork at the top, it was a solid bit of copper that had been melted into the glass, keeping it sealed permanently. There were more elaborate and decorative ways to keep a soul trapped but a bottle was more traditional, and she could hide it in plain sight if she wished.

Who would want an empty bottle?

The smell of wood and charred skin got stronger and she wrinkled her nose involuntarily. It smelled like death. The thick, coiling sense of fear and trauma echoed through her as she walked closer and the field gave way to a fence that surrounded burnt out little cottage. The embers still smoldered and she was sure there were pockets of live fire underneath the wreckage. It caused her to shudder. She was reminded of the border villages she and her troops had marched on, the smell of cooked meat was the same.

A baby screamed.

She jumped and looked around; there was something hotwired into her, some terrible force that worked at her until she rushed to the smoldering building and eased through the embers. She moved lightly on her feet, feeling out for the cooler areas until she came to the only place there was no fire, in fact, she eyed the area critically. There was no sign of anything. A circle formed around the toddler who screamed.

His face was red and his hands were balled up in his blanket.

She knelt down and whispered, "Hello, little one."

The child sniffled and opened his eyes and Kaya melted slightly. He had the prettiest grin eyes and she could only imagine that the young boy would grow up to be a handsome man…if he grew up that was. She looked around, hoping that his parents would come out of the woodwork. While she had raised two children to their teens before she made her deal, she had had the help of her more experienced family. There were times in which she could honestly say her children may not have survived without them.

"Where are your parents, hm?" She asked as she brushed her finger over his forehead, "Seems like you were nice and protected by them."

He stared at her wide-eyed and the snot dripped from his nose mixing with his tears, creating a sooty mess all over his face. He reached out a hand to her and Kaya's shoulders slumped a little before she picked him up. He was small, too small to rest on her hip but almost too big to carry against her chest. She shifted him around until his cheek rested on her shoulder and his rested against her with absolute confidence. A child's trust, she thought. She sighed a little and murmured, "I need this as much as a sword to the gut."

The child hiccupped against her shoulder and wiped his nose against her neck.

"Precious," she closed her eyes and glanced heavenward, looking for a sign. God had never been on her side, but perhaps there was someone up there who would listen even if she had made a deal with the devil and thwarted the Grand Design. If her life had been more like a fairy-tale, there would have been a shooting star or something that would have told her what she should do but the sky remained unmercifully clear. Kaya shook her head and rubbed the child's back soothingly as she looked around.

A hand stuck up from the embers and she watched it with the same interest she would give a particularly interesting bug as it crawled up the wall. She frowned and walked closer to give it a good look; there was no way to tell the gender of the former owner of the hand but had a feeling it was one of the parents of the little boy. "That does explain of few things, but not how you—"

"Put him down!"

A lesser woman would have jumped but Kaya turned around and stared at the man. He was attractive, but not in a way she found particularly pleasing. She liked her men of fairer skin and hair, and this man was all dark and softer lines. She hated it when a man looked softer than she did. It made her feel like a man; at least, he was taller than her which was a good thing, she tended to stand a few inches taller than most women and more than once looked down at a man.

It made people uncomfortable.

"No."

He seemed shocked by her blunt answer, "N-no?"

Kaya shrugged, "I don't feel like it."

"Give me, Harry, now. He isn't safe here."

Again Kaya shrugged but she eyed the stick the man held out in front of him in what she assumed was supposed to be a menacing way. She just thought it looked silly. A gun would have been much more fearsome, or even a shovel. A thin, tapered piece of wood did not incite any fear inside of her and she wished she had a free hand to rub away the headache she felt forming behind her eyes. "Safer with me than you."

"Did Dumbledore send you?"

Kaya took a gamble, "Yes, Dumbledore did. He wanted me to protect Harry."

The man watched her warily and moved closer; "Then you know?"

"If I assume to know what you are thinking, which I don't." Who would have thought, that she would one day appreciate the slick mannerisms of the courts and use them to her advantage.

"You'll keep him safe? Get him to Dumdbledore?" He asked earnestly, his eyes half-mad as he motioned towards the child in her arms. His soft breathing told her he had fallen asleep and she had a mind to keep him that way. A child who had just lost both of his parents in a fire deserved all the sleep he needed. "He'll know what to do."

"Of course," she said, not meaning a single word of it. The man looked a little relieved and he nodded to her before he hesitated, and made a move like he was going to say something before he vanished with a crackle of air and she stared at the empty space. She blinked, and continued to stare for another moment before murmuring, "Ghosts. Who would have thought it? Was that your daddy?"

She smiled down at the sleeping toddler and murmured against his hair, "Well, I'll take care of you, Harry. I'll keep you safe."

Kaya held Harry to her and carried the bottle loosely in her other hand as she started to walk away from the wreckage of the child's home. She glanced back and half-heartedly prayed for Harry's parents, but she doubted any god worth his or her salt would pay attention to her well-wishes. Prayers had never seemed to help her in the past, why would they start now when she had wrested control of her life away from the Grand Design?

* * *

Pebble is the first book in a series I plan on writing named Ripples; it is an alternate universe story that covers a range of topics and emotions but mainly features a Harry Potter who was raised by someone who cares deeply for him and how that effects everything from his decisions to his friends. The story is a reflection of how the smallest rock can make the biggest ripples through time.

This story is also posted on my website, Once Upon a Time, which can be reached through my profile under the home-page tab. I will be updating the site regularly with goodies, sneak peeks, and extra story odd/ends so check it out.

Please review! I really love hearing your opinions on the story.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter, it's characters and universe, belong to it's author, J.K. Rowlings. I claim no legal right to Harry Potter or any of it's trademarks. This story is made purely for entertainment and I make no profits off it.

**Chapter Two**

_Owls in the Kitchen_

The cottage was nearly out of the small town. It straddled that thin line between being its own distinct place and being a part of the town. Close enough that, on a good day, Kaya and Harry would walk to the town and get groceries but enough out of most people's way that their neighbors didn't pry and Kaya never had to answer any questions. She allowed most people to draw their own conclusions, and more often than not her neighbors' theories made her smile. Elinor Maynor, just call me "Auntie Ellie", would have laughed the gossip people got into their minds. But Ellie had died almost two years ago, and had left Kaya and Harry her house and what little savings she had.

It had been a saddening but heartwarming moment when she had told Kaya that she planned on it, "Ain't got a family of my own, but you know that. And you and Harry are the closest things to family I have now and I'm not having any family of mine out of the streets."

Kaya cried at Ellie's funeral. She knew some people back home who would have died from shock seeing the tears roll down her cheeks but she let them fall unabashed as the minister said his final prayers. While most people had left, Kaya and Harry stood at the graveside until the casket was buried. Harry made it a point to visit his Auntie's Ellie's grave after school and leave a flower in front of her gravestone.

Kaya had never been to the cemetery since Ellie had been laid to rest.

Harry didn't think it weird that his mother never went and visited the cemetery but from what he heard from his teachers at school and around the grocery, it was weird. It was just his mother's way. Aunt Ellie had died, and his mother had mourned but she had gone on with her life. She didn't like to think on the past; Harry agreed with her. The past just made his mother sad, and he didn't like that. She would have sad days and stare out the window, with a sort of lost look before hugging onto him tightly and holding him close for a while. She didn't say it, not with her words but she showed that she loved him. It was just her way. Harry just wished she wouldn't think on the past anymore.

He liked it when his mother smiled and when she laughed.

But he did wish she would be better at helping him with his homework. She was terrible at maths, geography, and a little decent at English but she spelled things weird and her letters were odd. Harry learned early that Auntie Ellie was the one who helped him at homework, until she died that was, but his mother was the one who checked under the bed for monsters and worried in that quiet way of hers.

He tried to divide his decimals, and stuck his tongue out at the paper. It was a few weeks from summer recess and his teacher was still trying to work this into their brains and it just confused him. He tried and tried but…he let his head fall to the desk and groaned against the desk. He hated math homework.

He hated homework in general.

There was a muffled noise from the general direction of the kitchen and Harry jerked up. His mother didn't really cook, she was more of a sandwich and soup from the can kind of a person, and Harry liked the simplicity of their food. He hesitated before he jumped up from his chair and ran to the kitchen, "Mum?"

He skidded to a stop and rubbed his eyes in confusion.

The kitchen seemed in the same rough disrepair as it always was; his mother was clean, but the house had its wrinkles and age spots that couldn't be polished out, but the owl sitting on the chair was new. His mother poised to throw a knife at it was less of a surprise than he would have thought, but it was really the large owl that seemed more ruffled than his mother. She straightened out of her crouch; put the knife on the counter before she addressed her son, "There is an owl in my kitchen."

"Uh-huh," he nodded and looked at the owl. "Mum, why is there an owl in the kitchen?"

"I," Kaya started before she shrugged, "I don't know why there is an owl in our kitchen."

"How did it get in, Mum?"

The older woman shrugged and mumbled, "I don't know but if it doesn't get out, I will roast it for dinner."

Harry looked over to his mother and eased through the doorway and walked over to her side. He was still small for his age, and his mother was tall. He could still be tucked against her side under one arm if either of them was so inclined. "It's weird."

Kaya hooked her arm around Harry's shoulders and nodded, "I concur."

"Is…that a letter around its ankle?" He asked, and pointed at it. The owl danced from foot to foot and hooted at them, giving them a look that could only be described as disgruntled. He tugged on Kaya's sleeve, "I think…he wants us to take it, Mum."

The owl did have his leg stuck out towards them and seemed to be waiting for them to untie the letter from its ankle. As Harry moved forward, Kaya held him in place with a firm hand on his shoulder and shook her head, "You are not touching the bird. It's probably diseased. It acts diseased."

The bird looked affronted.

And Kaya nodded, "See? Birds don't have expressions, but that one does. It's diseased."

"Mum," Harry said dismally, "That's not how you tell birds are diseased."

Kaya arched an eyebrow at him as she walked forward and deftly untied the letter from the owl's ankle. She watched it and shooed it off with a hand, its sharp beak barely missing her fingers. She frowned at it as it took off in a flurry of feathers and dirt; there was a reason she didn't like birds in the house. Holding the letter in one hand, she crossed the kitchen to the window she had opened to let in the spring air and cranked it shut using the handle. She looked outside and shook her head, "I've never known an owl to do that."

Harry came up beside her and pried the letter from her fingers, "I think it's for me!

"Hm?"

He turned the letter to her and pointed at it, "See, it's says for Mr. H. Potter. I'm the only H in the house but my last name isn't Potter."

Kaya nodded, but a frown marred her face and she looked at the thick envelope warily. "I suppose you want to open it?" Harry scuffed his toes against the ground and nodded, almost meekly, but he trembled with a nervous energy and Kaya crossed her arms before she nodded. "Be careful about it."

She wasn't good at denying her son things. It was the big green eyes that did it, and she knew it. His smile lit up her day and she would do just about anything to keep her son healthy, happy, and smiling. Even it meant breaking a few people's bones, or cooking a few owls. She eyed the dust on the kitchen table, no doubt laced with droppings and decided that it especially had to do with owls.

Harry tore into the paper with gusto and unfolded the crisp yellowed parchment. It was thick and rich looking; it smelled faintly of incense and something Harry couldn't place. He thought he knew the smell though. His eyes scanned the paper from behind his glasses and he looked confused, and vaguely hopeful, "It says I've been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And they expect my owl no later than July 31st. There's a supply list too. Do you think its real Mum?"

Kaya looked at it; Witchcraft wasn't a word she had heard in a long time. She had almost given up being a Witch—almost. Magick in this world was something she had noticed was harder to channel through her core and made her tired, if not irritable. After the first few times her larger spells had gone awry she had decided to stick to small things. Easy things that were so rudimentary, she didn't have to even think about casting them anymore. She had been almost sure that there was not enough Magick to sustain a population that would be able to harness magick but she had heard of odder things.

She was an odder thing!

She had jumped from another dimension after making a deal with the devil, and for all intents and purposes kidnapped her son. She didn't really have much room to talk. Kaya reached out a hand, "Well, let me see it?"

Harry handed it over and Kaya read it; it was a simple and to the point letter. It was so frank, she almost believed it. She looked at the second leave of paper and her eyebrows rose at some of the supplies, "Dragon hide gloves? A wand?...a pointed hat?"

Harry mumbled, "Is it a joke?"

"Lot of trouble for a prank," Kaya admitted, "It's pretty specific" She leaned against the window, ignoring how the old glass and the wood creaked under her weight. "It won't hurt to send a letter back if you want to."

Harry nodded, "It looks really neat, Mum."

"Even the pointy hat?"

Harry made a face, "Maybe not the pointed hat but everything else. I can learn magic!"

"Don't get your hopes up," Kaya reminded him and set the letter and the supply-list on the table, "We don't know if it is real or not. And I don't want you to be disappointed if it is…You could still be going to the secondary school in Glennsburrow."

"I know," he sighed. The uniform for that school was boring and grey, with a little hat that he was supposed to wear for assembly. His mother had already bought him the uniform but had put it out of sight in the closet; he had seen her look of distaste at the yellow bow-tie. She hadn't even made him try it on before she hid it away. "I hope it is real."

Kaya gave Harry that wistful smile she sometimes had, "You know, I hope so too."

Harry looked over the letters and bounced on the balls of his feet and motioned to the letter, "Can we write them now? And tell them I'll be coming?"

Kaya pushed off the window and nodded, "You write the letter. I'll go get the owl."

"The owl?"

His mother motioned vaguely towards the window, to the owl sitting perched on her clothesline, "The owl."

* * *

I'm sorry that the chapter is late, several things came up over the weekend and I couldn't get online. I do hope that everyone likes the chapter and even if you don't, I'd like to hear why so please review and give me your opinions. The next chapter will be out on the twenty-fifth, keeping to the original Saturday update schedule.

The next chapter is almost finished, and there will be some action!


	3. Chapter 3

_Harry Potter, it's characters and universe, belong to it's author, J.K. Rowlings. I claim no legal right to Harry Potter or any of it's trademarks. This story is made purely for entertainment and I make no profits off it._

Visitors on the Stoop

"Mum, did we get a reply?" Harry asked as he walked into the house. He dropped his backpack by the door and went into the living room, following the sound of the television. He and his Auntie Ellie had enjoyed watching programs on the television together but his mother was more likely just to put it on to have background noise while he was away at school and she read.

His mother glanced up at him, she had a pair of reading glasses on her nose, and she took them off as she spoke to him and set her book to the side. "No, there were no more owls in my kitchen."

Harry's shoulders slumped, "Oh."

She sighed and shrugged, "Harry, we both knew that it could have been a joke."

"I know, Mum," he said, and tried not to look a sad as he felt. He didn't miss a beat when she opened up her arms and he settled in for a hug. His friends at school always got embarrassed when their mother's hugged them or kissed their cheeks, but he couldn't for the life of him understand it. It was nice being protected and it wasn't like she would ever do this in public. "I wanted it to be real."

"I know, sweetheart," Kaya said, resting her cheek the top of his head. She sighed and pushed him back so she could catch his eyes with her own, "How about we go into town and we'll get an ice-cream?"

Harry glanced away and shrugged. While ice-cream did sound good, he wasn't sure that it would fix the small hole left in his heart. He had put a lot of hope in that letter being real. Kaya frowned a little and wondered how she could fix this. "We can get fudge sundaes?"

Harry shrugged again, and didn't look at his mother. Her frown deepened before she scooted him off her lap and pushed him gently towards the door; "Go get your shoes on Harry, we're going to go see a movie and get some ice-cream."

"You don't like movies," he sullenly insisted, and didn't move. He looked up at his mother, his dark hair falling between his glasses and his eyes. "You hate movies, Mum."

Kaya stood up and stretched before she started to push him towards the mudroom, "Yes, but I like the popcorn and the company."

Harry cracked a slight grin, and bit his bottom lip, "Can we get ice-cream too?"

She made a show of thinking about before she nodded with a smile, "Sure."

Harry didn't have to be told twice and the young boy rushed off towards the mudroom. She listened to him stumble and rush about and shook her head. She followed at a more sedate pace, and grabbed her wallet along the way. She had a part time job while Harry was a school, and it paid for most of the things they needed. They didn't live an extravagant life, but it was a pleasant existence and it allowed for little outings like the one they were going to take.

She heard the door opening, and she shouted down the hall, "Harry, wait for me."

Kaya came up behind Harry and froze, her attention on the odd man standing on the stoop. She resisted the urge to tilt her head to the side in confusion, but grabbed Harry by his shoulder and dragged him behind her. She glanced off to the side slightly to let her eyes rest from the bright colors of his robes, and tried not wince at the swirling of stars and moons embroidered on the maroon fabric. She wasn't going to comment on his beard, which she guessed would trip him up if he didn't tuck it into his belt, and finally drew her eyes to his face. The man had a friendly face, the grandfatherly type she often saw on the television, and his bright blue eyes were eclipsed by half-moon glasses.

She eyed him for a moment before she finally spoke, her tone regulated to show nothing, "May we help you?"

The man smiled slightly, and glanced between her and Harry before he pulled a letter from the waistband of his belt and held it up. It had been opened, and she could tell from a glance that it was the letter Harry had sent a few days earlier. "I admit I was surprised to get a letter asking about Hogwarts from Harry Potter."

He looked at Harry, who peeked around his mother, and continued, "You gave us quite the surprise, Mr. Potter. We thought you were dead."

Kaya's eyes narrowed, "Who are you?"

The old man waved his free hand in a placating motion, "Oh, don't be alarmed. I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You wrote that you wanted to know more about the school, and I thought it would be best to come myself."

Harry tugged on the back of Kaya's shirt and she tilted her head slightly so she could look at him out of the corner of her eyes. He wasn't looking at her but at Dumbledore, and she could see the interest in his face as well as the mild discomfort. He was a perceptive child, and more in tune with her moods that she thought was good for him and her wariness was setting him on edge. She took a breath, held it for a moment and let it out slowly, "Would you like to come in?"

He gave a faint smile, "Yes, please. Would either of you like a lemon sherbet?"

Kaya shook her head but frowned a little when Harry nodded, and reached out a hand, "Yes, please."

A single piece of candy was passed to Harry and Kaya urged him back towards the kitchen after he had popped the piece into his mouth, "If you'll follow us then."

The walk was hard for her. She didn't like having an unknown person at her back, especially when she was at a disadvantage but at the same time she didn't want to cause Harry any alarm. She sighed under her breath before she turned around to look at the old man again. His nose was long and crooked, and she guessed it had been broken a few times. That was one of the few things she hadn't broken in the past and knowing the pain of a facial injury, she felt a stab of sympathy.

Harry was a better host than his mother, and he offered the older man a seat, "Here you go, Mr. Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbledore," Albus corrected gently, as he eased himself into the wicker chair. He looked between the blonde woman and the boy everyone had thought had died ten years previous. He was curious as to why and how the woman had gotten Harry, but he wasn't here answers just yet. "Your letter said you had some questions for me, young man."

Harry nodded energetically, and he spoke around the piece of candy in his mouth, "Magic is real?"

"Very real," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling at the way the young man's face brightened and he glanced at blonde woman, who looked mildly bemused but all together happy as Harry turned to her and spoke rapidly. She nodded with a relaxed patience and a half smile, before she motioned for Harry to pay attention to him again. "And Hogwarts is real as well; one of the safest places in the entire Wizarding world, my boy."

Harry nodded, "And I get to go?"

"You've been on the admission lists since you were born," he said. "Though we had little hope that you would join us…" He trailed over, and watched the reactions; the woman's eyes narrowed, and Harry looked confused.

"Why not?" Harry asked, and started to speak again, "This is so cool, why wouldn't I want to go?"

Dumbledore stared into Harry's eyes for a moment before he looked over his head towards the woman he felt was to blame for the confusion of the situation, "Well, my boy, we thought you died with your parents."

Harry frowned at him and shook his head, "Well, I didn't. Mum found me."

Dumbledore was faintly curious at the conviction in Harry's young voice, and the way the woman seemed to relax when Harry didn't seem unduly bothered by his revelation. Kaya sighed and spoke up, "I've never lied to Harry. When I thought he was old enough, I told him he was adopted. He remembered his birth mother, and I didn't want to dishonor her memory. She died protecting him."

She sounded proud of a woman she had never knew, but Kaya was proud of the woman and thankful for her sacrifice. She had promised the ghost of Harry's father that she would protect Harry and she had. She had made a home for them, and raised him. She reached out with a hand and rested her fingers lightly on his shoulder.

When she spoke again, her tone was milder, "You knew his parents?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, yes. Lily and James Potter. Good children—bright students and good people. It was a great loss when they were killed…" He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head, "Though Voldemort was killed, there were no celebrations that night…but with the news that Harry is alive and well, the Wizarding world will rejoice."

Harry looked up at his mother, and then to Dumbledore, "Why?"

"Well, Harry, because we will finally know what happened that night."

Kaya raised a critical eyebrow at him. Her voice took on a demanding tone, "Explain."

It wasn't a question, or a request. It was an order, and that was something Dumbledore wasn't used to hearing from someone who was at least a century his junior. He took off his glasses and wiped them clean on his sleeve, and thought on how to explain the situation to the woman who had kidnapped Harry Potter. He looked to the woman again, "We were at war ten years ago, the night Lily and James died, Voldemort, a dark wizard, appeared to as well. However, we don't know what happened that night. He could be alive however…"

He pointed with a slightly gnarled finger towards Harry's head, pointing towards the lightning bolt shaped scar on his head, "However, I believe the answer is right there."

Harry's hand went over his scar and looked uncomfortable as he leaned against his mother for support, "What do you mean?"

"That isn't an ordinary scar," Dumbledore said, "It is—"

"Cursed?" Kaya asked, her voice pleasantly deceptive even as her eyes hardened. She had her suspicions about the scar for years. Something was off about the wound that never faded, and seemed to pulse to a rhythm of its own beat. "That is what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

Almost startled, Dumbledore nodded and watched as the woman sighed, and murmured, "That does explain a few things." She looked at him and asked him, "Is the man dead?"

"He hasn't been heard from since that night," Dumbledore said diplomatically.

"So you don't know…" She glanced over his head and seemed to think for a moment before she looked at him again, a look of concern and determination in her eyes, "There is a chance that this Voldemort is alive? Will your school teach Harry how to use magic to protect himself?"

"Yes, among other things," Dumbledore said, watching as the woman nodded.

She shrugged and said, "Well, I suppose that means Harry will be going to your school."

Harry brightened and he tilted his head back to look up at his mother, "Really Mum? I can really go?"

Kaya nodded and pushed him lightly through the door, "Go read while Professor Dumbledore and I talk, hm, Harry?"

"But Mum…" he started to protest but stopped at the look Kaya gave him. His words died on his tongue before he nodded, "Kay…"

She smiled at him and ruffled his hair as he walked out. She waited until he was out of earshot before she sat down across from Dumbledore. "You're not going to take him away from me."

"He does have family," Dumbledore said, leaning forward to speak with her seriously. "And if Voldemort is alive, only blood magic will protect him. It is familiar magic—he should be with his Aunt."

She shook her head, "Family isn't always blood, Dumbledore. It's deeper than that and you won't take him away from me."

"You did kidnap him, Mrs…" He trailed off; he hadn't gotten her name and he wondered what side of the lines she was on. She knew about magic, so he assumed she was a squib or at least had a family member in their world. If he could place a surname to her, he would know if she was harboring Harry, biding her time until Voldemort returned. He did believe that it would happen eventually.

"Kaya," she said shortly, "And I've never married."

"No surname?"

"None that has mattered in a long time," she admitted softly before she looked at him, "If you try and take him away, I'll run with him. And you'll never find us."

"Kaya," Dumbledore said soothingly, trying to calm the young woman who was so tense she seemed ready to spring out of the chair if a pin dropped. "Harry seems happy, and you seem like a good mother but you did kidnap him. He has family, who would be happy to take him in. You want him safe, don't you?"

"He is safe here," she insisted before she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, "And I'll do anything in my power to keep it that way."

"Anything?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes growing bright.

She gave a short nod.

"Well then, my child," he said, leaning back and smiling, "This may work out well."

* * *

I'm so sorry about the delay for this chapter, I hadn't thought about the holiday season at all and things just kept piling up. The dialogue in this chapter feels a little awkward to me in some places and I'm not sure I was able to capture the right "voice" for an eleven year old boy. There are some parts where the dialogue is choppy and seems to jump around, but after thinking on conversations I've had with people, I notice that things tend to come up as they are thought so I tried that approach in this chapter.

As always, please leave your feedback, positive and negative. Your opinions help me work out the problems in the story and give me an idea where my problem areas are.

If you are interested in what Kaya looks like, I did post a few images of her on my website http:/ .com/character-art. html

Just remove the spaces and you'll be there.


	4. Chapter 4

_Harry Potter, it's characters and universe, belong to it's author, J.K. Rowlings. I claim no legal right to Harry Potter or any of it's trademarks. This story is made purely for entertainment and I make no profits off it. I do however own Kaya, a character from an original story "Genesis" which is hosted on Mediaminer. _

**Chapter Four**

_Diagon Alley_

The bricks faded away under his mother knuckles as if they had been nothing but air, and a whole new world opened up in front of them. His eyes widened behind his glasses and his breath caught in his chest as he stared at the people in robes moving through the narrow alley but it was the noise that overwhelmed him. He was used to the quiet of the small town he lived in, and he glanced up at his mother for cues on how to act.

Her face was blank, but her shoulders were tense.

"Mum…?"

She glanced down at him, and seemed to consider something for a brief moment before she held out her head to him. "C'mon Harry, let's get this done and go home."

It sounded like she would rather skip the first part entirely and just go home. He tried to remember how his mother usually acted in crowds but couldn't recall a single time she had been in one. Maybe his mum just didn't like being in big groups? He shrugged it off and took her hand. It was a little childish, but he didn't want to get separated from her anymore than she wanted to lose him in the crush of people.

She gave him a nod and a tense smile before she took the first step in this alien terrain with its people speaking in English but a dialect that made his head spin: dragon livers, sickles, Boomslang venom? As they waded through the crowd he caught sight of an ice cream parlor and tugged on his mother's hand and pointed it out. It made her smile a little when he asked if they could go after they finished shopping for school.

"We'll see," she said without committing, but he watched her eye the sign mentioning their specials and knew that they would be stopping at the shop sooner rather than later. They both had sweet-teeth after all. The more they moved through the crowd and garnered little attention beyond a smile, his mum relaxed and soon she was pointing out interesting things to him that she noticed.

"Oh, Harry, look over there—it said you can take an cat or a toad," she said and he followed her gaze to a litter of kittens in the window.

In return, he pointed out the Owl Emporium, "Or an owl."

"No owls," she said; her tone was a force to be reckoned with and she arched an eyebrow at him. He dimmed a little bit and tried not to pout; whenever she took that tone with him he knew there was no way in which she was going to bend. He didn't understand why she didn't like owls, he thought they were pretty if not a little odd in how intelligent they were.

They nearly passed Ollivander's Wands before Harry caught a glimpse of peeling gold letters that nearly blended into the grime. The dusty window nearly obscured the wand resting on a once regal purple pillow. The store looked shabby and he tugged loose of his mother to try to look in the window, "Do you think they're closed?"

"I don't know," she replied and went to the door and tested it. The handle turned easily in her hand and the bell above the door chimed cheerfully as she leaned back to catch Harry by his elbow, "C'mon, its open."

He grinned, his excitement returning. The wand was the part he was wanted to know more about. He wanted to see what it could do, why he needed one, and most of all, how he got a wand. Did it pick him? Did he pick it? The questions were endless and he has questioned his mother about wands, but she only shrugged.

He fidgeted as they waited for someone to help them, and he thought back on the last few days since Mr. Dumbledore had shown up and spoken at length with his mother. He even had stayed for dinner! But after he left, his mum sat him down and spoke to him and explained to him what Mr. Dumbledore had said, and assured him that the old wizard wasn't going to take him away from his home. And to his surprise, she did something he only half remember from when he was a toddler—she whispered a series of words over his head, and pressed her lips to his scar. The touch had tingled before he felt as if something had settled into his mind and she ruffled his hair gently, 'Mother's have their own brand of magick.'

He learned the next day that she really did know magic but he also noticed that it tired her out.

Harry hesitated before he followed his mother's footsteps and started to poke around in the boxes, and looked in several of them. Some of the wands he looked at were simple, and others were engraved with twisting vines, unicorns, and one of the wands had a handle with embedded with small stones.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice said, and Harry jumped. His mother hid a slight smile from him but her eyes were on the man who's lean frame was blanketed by heavy robes and his eyes seemed to glow in the dimness of the room.

His mother crossed the room and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder before she replied to the man, "Afternoon."

"This is a surprise," the man mumbled, looking at Harry curiously, "Hmm…I never thought I would see you, Harry Potter…you have your Mother's yes, you know, I remember her well. Destroyed half my store before getting her wand: ten and a quarter inches, swishy, made of willow. A charmer's wand."

Harry looked up at his mom, and felt his fears justified as her glared at the man in suspicion. She hadn't mentioned his name, and he hadn't introduced himself so how would the man know him? It made him uncomfortable and his mother shifted him to her left, leaving her right side free. Her weight shifted and he wondered what she was doing as the man leaned forward to look at Harry more closely.

Harry blinked.

Suddenly, the man was on the floor and his mother watched him coolly. The man blinked owlishly at both of them before he got back to his feet and brushed the dust off his clothes. A thin line of blood dripped from his split lip but he didn't seem to pay attention to that as he looked at Kaya, "I should have known that would have happened."

He sounded almost miffed about that he hadn't forseen it before he wiped the blood off his chin and shrugged, "I suppose you want a wand, young man."

Harry was less sure about it now than he had been before but Kaya spoke up for him, "He does."

He was grateful that she didn't move away from him and instead wrapped a comforting arm about his shoulder and squeezed. She seemed less worried now that she had hit the man, and Harry wondered why. If anything, the man set off warning bells in his head and he wanted to leave even if it meant not having a wand. If his mum could do magic without a wand, he could too, right?

The man nodded. He looked to Harry but made no move towards him this time as eyed the small dark-haired youth critically. "Which is your wand arm?"

"M-my wand arm?" Harry asked and nibbled on his bottom lip before he mumbled, "I'm right handed…?"

"Hold out your arm then," the man directed, and he pulled out a measuring tape from his robes and started to measure Harry's arm length and various other measurements that made no sense to him. He did notice that the man never touched him and his mother watched the creepy man with critical eyes. "Every wand has a magical core, Mr. Potter. We use phoenix feathers, unicorn hairs, heartstrings of dragons, and we've been known to have several with kelpie hair as well. No two Ollivander wands are the same—we make unique wands that match the wizard. You'll never get the best result with a wand that is not your own."

As he spoke, the man had turned and with a flick of his wand, boxes started to float in a grave procession towards the trio and hovered patiently around them. He stared at the levitating boxes and whispered, "How…?"

"Ah…hmm, the spells? Wingardium Leviosa. Levitation spell." He plucked one of the wands at random and opened it before he nodded, "Yes, yes, try this one—Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches, nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry gingerly took the wand, and felt more than a little silly and waved it around only to have it snatched out of his fingers quickly and another forced into his hands…and the cycle continued for the better part of an hour. He started to slump and his hopes hit rock bottom as the last box was thrown to the side but the odd man seemed to be excited and he mumbled softly, "How curious…let me see, I have a wand in back. Let's see if that one is the one for you."

As the man shuffled away, Harry looked up at his mom and leaned against her side, closing his eyes as her fingers brushed his hair gently, "Mum, I want to go home."

"Soon, sweetheart," she responded softly and smiled down at him. "We have a few things more to get before we go home. I don't want to come back tomorrow."

He sighed and fought the urge to whine. He contented himself with burying his face into her side until the sound of footsteps returned and looked at the man gloomily as he was given another wand. The moment it touched his fingers he felt warmth spread through him. He gave a restrained wave of the wand and a wave of gold and red glitter followed the tip of the wand. He gave a small whoop of triumph and gave a heartier of wave of his wand, watching as sparks erupted from the end of it like a small firework.

The man chuckled and clapped his hands, "Very, very good. What a surprising choice…very curious."

His mother was the one who cocked her head to the side slightly and inquired softly, "Why so?"

"I remember the wands I sell. Every wand. And your wand's core is from a phoenix who only gave us two tail feathers. It is interesting that it's brother was in the wand that gave you that scar. Thirteen and a half inches, Yew…just as an unusual wand as your own. Holly and phoenix feather…A great wand for a great wizard. Many things will be expected of you, young man."

Harry shivered and thought decided that he didn't like the odd man who he had come to think of as Ollivander. There seemed to be no one else at the store so he had to assume that the man was the store owner. He thought on it as his mother reached into a pouch and handed over seven gold pieces for his wand and then they left.

He breathed in deeply as they left the wand shop and yawned a little. The sun was much lower than it had been when they first entered Ollivander's wand shop and he still wanted to go home even if it had turned out well. His mother's hand was light on his shoulder and he leaned against her as they walked, his eyes closed in trust, and he only half listened to her talk about what they would be doing next, "We'll hold off on the animals, and just go get your potion supplies, your robes and your books. Albus made reservations at the Leakey Cauldron for the night—we'll go home in the morning, all right?"

He made a noise, "We're not going home tonight?"

Harry wanted to go home where everything was normal and he knew what to expect. Most of all, he wanted to sleep in his own bed. He felt his mother sigh and she sounded as enthused about it as he was, "It would be an ungodly hour if we took the train. At least this way we have beds. The man gave us money to spend, so we'll spend it."

Harry slumped and nodded, "Kay…"

"I know, Harry," she sighed, before she stepped to the side and they moved into another store. Reams of clothe hung from the walls and compared to the wand shop, it was overly lavish. What made the experience even more pleasurable was that it only took a few minutes to get everything settled and the seamstress, Madame Malkin, and his mother decided that after he was measured, the robes would be mailed to them. The trip barely took fifteen minutes and he grinned a little as his mother took charge and made their way to the potions store (apothecary, he learned) and got everything in quick order.

However, in the bookstore, they both got their second winds and they dawdled until closing. On top of Harry's required readings for school, his mum had insisted that he get several more books on history, culture, and even a few on magical theory. He was surprised when she got books titled, "Three-Hundred Poisons and their Antidotes", "Law and You", and "Magical Children, Muggle Parents: Encouraging your Child." Both were pleasantly surprised when the clerk shrunk the books down, making their large purchase fit into Kaya's pocket.

As full dark approached and Diagon Alley started to close down, the pair stumbled into the Leakey Cauldron and took over a table, and got dinner. It was heartier than what Harry or Kaya would have normally eaten but they dug in with gusto before making it up to their room. Very little was said as mother and son curled up into their beds and turned out the lights, but it took some time for either of them to fall asleep despite how exhausted they were.

...

...

Harry woke up to his mother shaking him awake gently. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were rumpled from being slept in but she didn't seem to mind that as she urged him up, "If we hurry we can catch the seven a.m. train out and be home by about two."

He sluggishly nodded but in the end, his mother picked him up and started to carry him towards the two before he managed to get on his feet before she hauled him off down the stairs. He didn't remember how they got to King's Cross Station or getting on the train but he did remember curling up in his seat and sleeping until they pulled into their last stop and they disembarked the train and walked home.

Both gave a small sigh of relief as they crossed the threshold into the house and Harry ran off to his room to unpack his new purchases and started to look through the books excitedly. He paid attention to the spells the most, since they looked the most interesting. Ollivander hinted that his birth mother had been good at charms and he wanted to have something to connect her to him.

His mum always said that his birth mother was a good woman, and now he wanted to make both of his mothers proud.

With that thought, he curled up on his bed and started to study.

* * *

When I started this story, I was on winter break and I had high hopes that if I started with a schedule that I would be able to keep with it and update on a regular basis. However, I this semester is much more busy than I expected and updates will be erratic. I will try to update as much as possible, but I can't promise that I'll be updating once a week like I had originally planned and hoped to do. I will not be abandoning this story; I may be slow but I intend to write it out until it's completion.

Like the previous chapters, this is a rough draft and unedited, but I wanted to update.

Chapter Five is started, and I'm hopeful that I'll be able to peck away at it during a few of my breaks between lectures.

As always, please review and give me your honest opinion on the characterizations, pacing, and any issues you find that make the story hard to understand or read.

Your reviews help me become a better writer and encourages me to write faster.


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